


Dues Paid

by FairyNiamh



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Humor, M/M, Medical Professionals, Not Beta Read, Pre-Slash, Rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-09
Updated: 2014-09-09
Packaged: 2018-02-16 18:04:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2279472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyNiamh/pseuds/FairyNiamh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles doesn't have the best luck. Honestly, even the lawn mower wants him dead. Until a stranger steps up and  interferes with fate's plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dues Paid

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lidil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lidil/gifts).



> To one of my most dedicated reader/reviewer.

Strange things happen to Stiles, like, all the time. He would like to blame it on something, but there is nothing to blame except his own rotten luck.

Case in point. After his Dad had bribed, harassed, and finally threatened him, he had decided to mow the lawn. Not a big thing, he usually mows, he just hates it. The young man swears that the self-propelling lawnmower, left by his late Aunt Griselda, is cursed. He had asked his dad to purchase a replacement mower, but in a fit of frugality, his father had refused his request.

His reasoning was valid, in his mind, since he was always injured when using said mower. Sadly, the mower he had preferred had died during the previous winter's set-up. Which meant he must use the accursed machine. The last time it was in use, a small rock flew out of the grass deflector and caused a three-inch cut on his calf. It had not been deep enough to go to the hospital, but deep enough to hurt like a mother plunger.

Stiles is far from a religious person. He had too many religions in his family, to feel comfortable settling on a single one. Still, before he started the demonic piece of… machinery, he blessed himself and sent out a prayer asking for whoever and whatever was listening to him, to keep him safe and whole during the trial which he was about to set forth in.

 

_(What happened next is proof that all deities had unplugged for the evening and forgot to check their voice-mail and email or had plain forsaken a man in need.)_

 

He gripped the handle tightly with his left hand and pulled the choke cord with his right, instantly starting the machine. Not a good sign in his mind. It usually take more than one pull on the old machine. Stiles jogged to keep up with the mower and swore he would have had an easier time walking a Great Dane than attempting to make the possessed machine bend to his will.

Still, he managed to keep the beast mostly calm; it behaved long enough for Stiles to mow his back lawn. When he set out to tend to the front lawn… well, that is where his day went to pot. Just as he is looking at the last five-foot strip of tall grass, the mower jerked him to the left, sending him on a swift jog toward the semi-busy road.

He tried to talk his hands into letting go, truly, he did, but they refused his orders. Instead, they gripped his personal ticket to the underworld tighter, until the mower got to the curb, made a sharp right, effectively loosening Stiles' grip and sending him to tumble over the curb, straight into oncoming traffic.

He felt his left leg and wrist break when he hit the pavement and then he looked up and saw his short life flash before his eyes as a pickup truck made its way toward his head. Not even bothering to slow up. He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable to happen. He sent along with a prayer, to keep his father and friends safe as he waited for all the pain to be over.

You can imagine how surprised he was when his death did not happen. In fact, when he reopened his eyes, he found himself in the arms of the most handsome man he had ever had the pleasure of seeing in real life.

"You okay?" the man asked suddenly.

Stiles opened his mouth to answer, only to jostle his leg, which caused him to scream in pain and pass out.

 _(Stiles would like to point out that he never wished to be a damsel in distress and that pain doesn't usually cause him to pass out. However, combined with stress and exhaustion from wrestling_ the beast _he deserved a nap and hoped someone stole the damned thing.)_

He doesn't know how long he is out, but he comes to in the hospital with Melissa, his dad, and Mr. Adonis surrounding the bed.

"Hey there kiddo, Derek here was just telling us how you managed to break so many bones. You're lucky he was jogging near-by. I invited him over for dinner."

"I really don't want to intrude," the man, Derek, said suddenly.

"Do you have a job?" Stiles suddenly blurted out. _(No, he doesn't know where the question comes from.)_

"Stiles," Melissa hissed as she hit him carefully on his head.

Derek just rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Not yet, I'm new to town and was on my way home to get ready for an interview when I saw you fall."

"Where did you have an interview son, I'll put in a good word for you," John said with a wince. He couldn't help the feeling of guilt and gratitude toward this young man.

"At the hospice, here in town."

"Dad, can we hire him. I mean, dude, can we hire you?" Stiles asked excitedly.

"Stiles," John groaned.

"What? I'm injured, I may need physical therapy, I know I will need more help than Scott can provide. He needs a job; it's a win-win situation!"

Melissa laughed and shook her head. "As much as it pains me to say this within his hearing range, he's right, John. Stiles will be lucky if he can wheel himself across the stage for graduation next week, let alone actually do the things he does. However, from the looks of the x-ray he would not be able to handle a wheelchair either. What do you say Derek? Are you willing to put up with this knucklehead until he heals?"

No one, except Stiles, noticed the glint in Derek's eyes as he nodded his agreement. "I think I could keep him busy and keep his mind off of all the things he's going to be forbidden to do. I can probably even talk him into letting me help him in the shower."

A gentle cough at the door caught everyone's attention. "Sheriff, if you have a moment, we need to update Stiles information and the doctor would like to talk to you."

"Derek, would you swing by here tomorrow, around 9 in the morning? I hope that they will be releasing him tomorrow and we can get you set up. Thank you again, for saving him," John said before leaving the room.

"I have to get back to my rounds. Nice meeting you Derek."

The pair just stared at each other after Melissa and John had left the room. It was Derek who broke the silence between them. "Your parents are nice."

"Just the Sheriff is my parent. Melissa is a family friend," Stiles explained.

"What reward are _you_ going to offer me for your rescue?" The tone of Derek's voice was jovial, where his eyes were pure starving wolf… and Stiles was the steak placed in front of him.

Stiles licked his lips and looked the man up and down. "What did you have in mind, my prince?"

Derek grinned at the younger man. "Nothing that would be acceptable in the hospital, but I certainly wouldn't say no if little red wanted to give me a kiss, to tide me over."

Stiles reached up and pulled the man down to eye level. "Oh my, what big _teeth_ you have," Stiles whispered before kissing his sexy savior.

When Derek pulled away his breath was ragged, his lips swollen, and his pupils were fully dilated. "I look forward to doing some one on one rehabilitation with you Little Red," the older man said before leaving the room.

Stiles had paid the mower's price of pain and blood; and he was more than happy with the outcome. This should be a very interesting recovery.

~Fin~


End file.
